


Admissions

by Angryangryowl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Fluff, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Spoilers for Season Four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 08:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: 'Shall we get to work?’It's that wide grin that he's missed. Mischief mixed with genuine, childlike glee that's somehow infectious.'Yes, but first…’(Or, What really happened after Oswald meets Ed in the Arkham Admissions Room.





	Admissions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostOfDorothyStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostOfDorothyStreet/gifts).



> This was his idea. Thank you for always cheering me on <3

'Shall we get to work?’

It's that wide grin that he's missed. Mischief mixed with genuine, childlike glee that's somehow infectious.

'Yes, but first…’ 

Oswalds hand comes to rest on Ed's shoulder, thumb smoothing the grubby velvet of his suit collar, smile fading to something more considerate for a moment. Ed wore such ill-fitting clothes when they first met. He’d been so proud to show him the simple joys of trousers that covered his ankles, suit jackets cut for that graceful, long torso...

Ed just stares, caught in headlights, half of that grin still on his face. He doesn't seem sure what to say, what to do next. Their eyes meet for a long moment, studying each other, assessing threat and…

Oswald pauses to reconsider, hand halfway to Ed's cheek, moving away and smoothing the creased front of his striped uniform. The thought of the morning after he was made mayor floats into his mind. Waking up, the inside of his head syrup-thick and slow after too much champagne, and realising the damp warmth at his shoulder is Ed. Hair loose, over his eyes, mouth open around soft snores against the back of Oswald's neck. One arm still draped across his waist.

'Yes, well...there's time. I'll show you your room..’

It's only when he turns away, when Ed had stood up, making to follow him out into the dimly lit corridor, that he feels slim, cool fingers around his wrist 'Wait…’

He looks back, a traitorous flicker of hope rising in his chest 'Ed?’

Oswald can't remember clearly how the next few steps work, Ed twirling him in his arms to press his back to the door, chests and bellies together and Ed’s lips at his jaw. His body reacts long before his mind, arching into him with a low groan, long fingers reaching for him, clutching him close.

The kisses are quick, graceless and desperate, any question of whether this is a good idea and all past offences pushed aside in favour of raw passion. Everything that they’ve both been missing, the press of the other’s body, the greedily-taken taste of each other’s mouth.

A high, helpless noise escapes his mouth his Ed's thigh slots between his, a hot flare of arousal through his torso. And then, breathlessly, as though he's finally realising 'You came back..’   
  
‘Of course I did..’ Ed sounds so pleased with himself, like it was the obvious thing to do all along.

Oswald fumbles behind him for the thumbturn lock at his hip, the lights, as Ed kisses, wet and open-mouthed down his neck, tugging impatiently at the loose collar of his uniform, baring one slim shoulder to the cool air of the room and mouthing at it.   
  
‘Please, please…’    
  


‘Come and sit down.’ Ed’s voice has lost something of its authority, breathy and hurried as they stumble to the desk in the dark.   
  
Perched on the edge, the chill of the air and the polished wood reminding him of exactly where they are for a few moments, Oswald hesitates. But then Ed is there, standing between his knees, cupping his jaw in the dark, the tips of their noses pressed together.   
  
‘Hi there..’   
  
And Ed had better stop that, because he’ll lose his nerve, he’ll crack and tell him everything that’s bubbling at the back of his tongue, waiting to spill. So he arches up and kisses him, shy like first love, one brush, then another, until he’s rewarded with the press of Ed’s body and a helpless groan as his legs wrap around Ed’s waist.   
  
The past few months have been rough on both of them, both have lost a little weight, Ed’s hips are sharper through his suit as they rock together, an erratic rhythm, two bodies remembering each other and how good it feels to grip and kiss and hold without caution or politeness. Both whimpering and moaning into each other’s necks, gripping hair and collars and necks and shoulders.    
  
Ed’s long, clever fingers are between them again, slipping down over his belly and between his legs, palming him through the rough cotton of his uniform as he licks greedily into Ed’s mouth. The familiar slightly sweet taste of his mouth, and the frame of his glasses pushed into his nose. He rolls his hips against his hand. This is too good, too wanted, for him to be shy. His heart is pounding in his neck, under Ed’s mouth.    
  
It’s only cold again for a moment when Ed sinks to his knees. Unfastens the drawstring of his pants with impatient fingers, and sinks against him, mouthing over the leaking head of his cock, tongue curling around the underside of him until his heels are pressed into Ed’s sides ‘God…’   
  
He feels like he’ll die when Ed pulls away and stands up, too soon. Pulls him to his feet too, still achingly hard, whole body burning, pants pooled around his feet.   
  
Oswald is still reaching for him then, blindly kissing his wet mouth and tasting himself, palming his erection through his suit trousers. Because he has him close, the hot thrill of having Ed near making him grin giddily against his skin. This long, bendy body that he’s missed so, and beneath the heavy scent of the Narrows on his clothes (Stale cigarette smoke, acetone, cloying sweetness), there’s the faint, reassuring scent of his skin. He nuzzles into his shoulder, just for a moment and Ed’s arm is reassuringly tight around him.   
  
‘I think we can do better than this-’ Ed murmurs into the air between them, speaking too quickly and biting back a moan as Oswald’s hand slips beneath his underwear.

‘I’m all ears’   
  
‘I’m presuming we don’t have any lubricant but..’   
  
_ Oh.  _ ‘Well, this is the admissions suite. Next door is where they do what little medical they offer upon admission. Notably cavity searches..’   
  
‘I always liked the way your mind worked’ Ed kisses his forehead for good measure, before slipping away into the small examination room.   
  
‘I was thinking..’ He whispers when he returns, a few seconds later, a small tube in hand, placing it on the desk top behind Oswald before planting his hands either side of him, pinning him in place with his hips ‘...do you remember that first night, after the election, when we uh..celebrated?’   
  
Oswald grins, kissing his chin ‘I do. They say champagne goes right to one’s head..’   
  
It certainly had that night. Just enough to melt away any inhibition, or doubt. His cheeks flush as he remembers pulling Ed into his lap, that long body curling around his in his expansive leather chair, kissing, unfastening, unbuttoning. Stroking and smoothing and  _ loving  _ him. The polished mahogany under his back where his shirt rides up, long legs tight around Ed’s back, hair mussed and long fingers clinging.   
  
‘You were beautiful that night.’ He murmurs against Oswald’s mouth, as he deftly unfastens Ed’s trousers, pushes them down around his hips.    
  
Oswald doesn’t respond, can’t, not in words. But he presses forward, kissing Ed hard as he wraps his fingers around his length, hard, shallow strokes as Ed pushes him back to perch on the edge of the desk, paperwork scattering onto the concrete floor.   
  
‘Oh Oswald..’   
  
He’s missed that too, the revenant sound of him name on Ed’s tongue.   
  


‘Not like this though…’ He explains against the hollow of his neck, as one slick fingertip finds its mark. His whole body arches against him.   
  
He can’t exactly ask for what he wants. Ed’s body covering his own, filling him, pressing his cheek into the warm wood.   
  
‘On my belly..’    
  
Ed looks at him in the half-light, cast by the sickly orange bulb in the corridor for a moment. Smoothing his messy fringe from his eyes, expression unreadable, before he nods.

Ed unfastens his shirt without being asked. Seems to share his need for warm, bare skin. He takes a little longer preparing, tender kisses neither of them wants to explain between them as Ed works him open with his fingers, Oswald’s arms looped around his neck, his calves around the back of Ed’s knees.   
  
They make love with Oswald bent forward, the wood cold under his cheek and hard on his skinny ribs, the warm weight of Ed against him, an arm tight around his middle as they rock together. A whole world,  _ his whole world _ , encompassing him, filling him, holding him close, his sweat-damp forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. Whispering, murmuring against his skin. He’d normally put this down to Ed being incapable of shutting up, until, dizzyingly close to the edge, he catches it. Three familiar small words.   
  
Ed moves away quickly afterwards, and Oswald supposes that makes sense. Lust is satiated far more easily than love, and maybe that’s all that they both needed. Maybe they’ll be a little more functional now. Maybe..

Ed returns with a packet of wipes and a length of paper towel, pressing them into his hands first and kissing his forehead.   
  
Oswald’s eyes squeeze tight trying to make sense of this. Not finding an answer, he asks ed to turn away. In spite of everything they’ve just done, it seems somehow undignified for ed to watch him clean himself up.   
  
‘You said you loved me, you know..’ He can’t quite keep the accusation out of his voice.   
  
Ed turns back towards him as he pulls his pants back up, tying the drawstring tight around his narrow waist. There’s something a little pained about his face.   
  
‘What?’   
  
‘You said you loved me. And it’s alright if you don’t. But...I want to know. For my own sanity I guess.’ He laughs bitterly ‘Do you love me, Ed?’   
  
Ed takes both his hands, tipping their foreheads together in the sickly orange light. 

 

‘I never stopped.’


End file.
